Turning the Tables
by ashby
Summary: Set in seventh year. Hermione's the only girl Ron can't get, and it's driving him mad. It doesn't stop him from trying, though. Hermione is fed up with the pursuing and decides to turn the tables a bit.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing that even remotely has to do with Harry Potter.  
  
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You don't fall in love with your best friend. It's just not something you do, right? Especially when you're the smartest girl in your class, especially when logic wins out over all else in your mind without fail, right? Especially when you're Hermione Granger.  
  
And I am Hermione Granger, after all.  
  
So, no, I am definitely not in love with my best friend. For the longest time, I wasn't even sure that I liked my best friend even. I mean, sure, he's funny and entertaining and brave and even kind of cute. Okay, he is very cute, but that doesn't change anything.  
  
He's annoying, insensitive, immature, infuriating, rude, vile… Do I need to go on because, really, I can.  
  
But somehow, he's managed to make every single girl in the school fall head over heels for him. He fancies himself some sort of player, and that's really all he is when it comes down to it. He probably doesn't even like half of the girls he goes out with; it's more of a statement for him. To let everyone know that he can and will get any girl that he chooses.  
  
Last year when we were sixth years, he somehow managed to attract the attentions of both of my roommates, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, at the exact same time. It caused a rather furious row between the two of them, and I have to admit that it was actually quite entertaining to watch. They got over it, though, and now they're back to being their annoying best friends selves. Ron's managed to snag every single Gryffindor girl in the year below us, too- except for his little sister Ginny, of course. He's also managed to get half the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, too. He doesn't really go after any of the Slytherin girls, but can you really blame him? What would he want with Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode anyway?  
  
But there's always been one girl he's never succeeded in wooing, and that would be… Me.  
  
He might think that he's some fantastic, debonair, master of women. But he's really not. If he were, I would have fallen for him a long time ago.  
  
Like the very first time he ever told me I was "cute." Or the very first time he ever slid his hands down my waist in what I know was just a hoped attempt to make me shiver. Or even the very first time he told me that he wasn't sure why I was fighting the inevitable.  
  
But, of course, he wasn't being serious.  
  
Ron Weasley is never, ever serious. He is a joker, a teaser- definitely not serious.  
  
The only reason he ever expressed any interest in me is because I would prove to be a challenge. I'm the only girl that's not already falling at his feet, and it's just killing him that there might be one girl in the school that won't fall victim to his "charms."  
  
So, he's been devoting the last few months to pursuing me. Nonstop. Like I'm stupid or something.  
  
Honestly! Doesn't he know I'm nearly the opposite of stupid? Doesn't he know that I know all about the little ego-boast he would get if I were to suddenly lay aside all my morals and logic and just throw myself at him like some common Hogwarts slut? Doesn't he know that?  
  
Well, if he doesn't he should certainly learn.  
  
Because I'm not some common Hogwarts slut. I'm not now, nor have I ever been, nor will I ever be. So, he just needs to accept that. And leave me alone.  
  
Before I do something that actually is stupid.  
  
Okay, let me be honest with you. Just make sure that what I'm about to say goes no further than you and me. Promise? Well, okay then.  
  
All of a sudden, I can't think about anything except Ron. Stupid, isn't it? Yes, I know, but I can't help it! It's like somehow no matter where I am or what I'm doing, a tall redhead always manages to make his way into my thoughts and settle there.  
  
And I don't know why.  
  
Honestly, I really don't like him that way. I especially don't love him. I mean, at least I don't think I do.  
  
Oh, who am I kidding?  
  
Of course, I like him in that way. All I ever think about is kissing him and touching him and just being with him. But he can't know that. I'm way too stubborn to admit to him that he was right when he said, "You know, 'Mione, if you'd just get your head out of your arse, you'd see that we're meant for each other."  
  
Get my head out of my arse? Well, that's Ron for you. But anyway, he was right. I do see that we're meant for each other. I really, really see it. I know this because my mother once told me that opposites attract one another, and she couldn't have been more right.  
  
Ron and me- that's about as opposite as you can get.  
  
He's messy; I'm neat. He's rude; I'm sensitive. He's loud; I'm usually quiet. He'd rather spend his time talking Quidditch; I'd rather spend my time reading schoolbooks. He doesn't care about his grades; I'm obsessed with mine.  
  
It's a wonder we even became friends in the first place.  
  
But we did, and I guess that was really all Harry's fault. Harry Potter is our other best friend, and for seven years now, he's been the go-between for us and the peace-keeper and the makeshift mediator whenever Ron and I have fought. And it's really through him that Ron and I even became friends in the first place. See, when we were eleven years old and just starting out at school, Harry and Ron were best friends. I really didn't like either of them because they were both rather rude to me most of the time- especially Ron. But certain events happened that changed my feelings for them, and we became friends. At first I really only liked Harry; Ron was still kind of mean to me (not that he isn't still…). But Ron came along with the package, and I was forced to befriend him.  
  
And I'd be telling a complete lie if I said I regretted our friendship. True, Ron and I have screamed more than we've talked civilly, but deep down we're very good friends, and I can't imagine what my life would be like today if he wasn't in it. If I'm going to be completely honest, I'd even go as far as saying that I consider Ron to be an even better friend than Harry. It's true, though, but that's just because Ron and I have spent so much time alone together while Harry's been off doing other things.  
  
But still. Even if opposites do attract, that's no guarantee that Ron and I would ever make it. I've been around two sets of happily married people- one for all of my life and another for a good part. Those two sets are, respectively, Marie and Timothy Granger and Molly and Arthur Weasley- my parents and Ron's. Here are two sets of two people who have been together for a time longer than I have even been in existence, and they're still perfectly content with each other. Yes, I've seen my mum and dad argue, and I've seen Mr. and Mrs. Weasley argue, too, but they don't have all out screaming matches like Ron and I do. Ron and I fight about everything! And when we were younger, I could deal better with it. Ron and I would get in a fight, and we wouldn't talk to each other for a few days; then everything would be perfectly fine. Now, though, things are quite different. After Ron and I get into a huge row, we no longer give each other the silent treatment. No, he takes care of me with a much harsher punishment.  
  
He flirts nonstop with me.  
  
"Wow, Hermione! If you can get that fired up about me wanting to copy your Transfiguration essay, I can't even imagine how fired you could get about… other things…" He would, of course, say this with a quick wink of the eye and his stupid, cocky smirk playing across his lips.  
  
And he knows it gets to me. He knows that when he starts talking about "other things" that I start thinking about "other things," and that it throws off my whole calm, cool, and collected bit. And so that's why he does it.  
  
Because he knows it affects me a hundred times more than silence.  
  
He really pissed me off this morning. We got into a terrible argument that resulted in me storming out of the Common Room and outside to the lake. I wish he wouldn't come after me, but I know he will. I bet you that at this very moment he's upstairs plotting his latest tactic to get me to throw myself at him and beg him to ravish me like there's no tomorrow. I bet he's up there planning exactly what he's going to say in an attempt to win me on this day. I bet he and Harry are up there having a good laugh about it all.  
  
He makes me so furious!!!  
  
Of course, I could turn the tables just a bit… Throw him off and give him a taste of his own medicine. And let's just see how well he handles that.  
  
"Operation Make Ron Beg" is about to be underway…  
  
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Hi, this won't be a very long story. Probably just a few chapters. Let me know if you want to see more, please! Thanks!!!!! 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: WOW!!!! I was COMPLETELY overwhelmed by the response to chapter one, and I want to thank everyone who left feedback! You guys are the best!!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them!  
  
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So, there I was, sitting all alone by the lake and paying absolutely no attention whatsoever to my surroundings. It wasn't until I felt something heavy drop behind me and a pair of hands close over my eyes that I was jerked back to reality.  
  
Jumping at first, I immediately gave an extremely involuntary shiver when a voice whispered in my ear.  
  
"Guess who." It was a familiar voice, and hot breath tickled my neck at its words.  
  
"Hmm… The most annoying prat I've ever met," I said sarcastically, deftly ducking out of the grasp his hands had on my face.  
  
I heard laughter behind me and then on my right side as the offending person leaned around my shoulder to look at me. "Oh, 'Mione," Ron said, grinning stupidly, "you really hurt me when you say stuff like that."  
  
Stop smiling at me like that. "I'm going to physically hurt you in just a minute." Good one, Granger. Threaten him with physical harm… This is supposed to be 'Operation Make Ron Beg' not 'Operation Kill Ron Painfully.' Actually, both sounded sort of pleasant in their own respects.  
  
But Ron didn't take me seriously, of course. Instead he just shot me a rather suggestive look and said, "Don't do that. I might enjoy it too much."  
  
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. But this was the perfect opportunity. Putting on my most flirtatious smile, I said, "Oh, I'm sure you would."  
  
And to my great pleasure, Ron's face took on the exact look I wanted it to. He looked completely flabbergasted, though I'm not sure if it was because of my actual words or the fact that I didn't hit him straight across the nose. On either account, he looked rather nervous and unsure of what to do.  
  
"What's the matter?" I asked in my most nonchalant voice. "At a loss of words because you're trying to imagine just how much you would enjoy it?" I flashed him another smile, trying my best to copy the stupid, cocky one he always gives me.  
  
But now, to my great displeasure, the same smile I was attempting to copy covered Ron's lips, and he looked at me curiously. "Oh, that's cute."  
  
"What's cute?" I challenged, all the while praying he hadn't caught onto what I was trying to pull.  
  
"Well, you for one," he told me seriously. "But I tell you that every single day." As he said this, he moved his body so that he was sitting beside me but facing the opposite direction, though we could still see each other's faces perfectly well. "And yet," he said, reaching for one of my curls and twirling it between his fingers, "you never quite believe me." With this, he dropped the strand of hair into my face and reached to move it away, purposely letting the back of his fingers brush over my lips and the side of my cheek as he pushed it back into its original position.  
  
I just rolled my eyes briefly, and he continued.  
  
"You just keep shooting me down."  
  
Ugh. Could he be more obvious? "Yes, I suppose I do," I said briskly. "What a horror it must be for there to be a girl who would shoot down the infamous Don Juan of Hogwarts, Ron Weasley himself." I knew my voice was dripping with sarcasm, but I couldn't help but smile a little at Ron's confused expression when I mentioned Don Juan. He brushed it off, though, and continued his own flirting.  
  
"No, it's not that. I'm just terribly upset that my very best friend keeps missing the chance of a lifetime." I snorted at his words. The chance of a lifetime only comes once usually- not four times a day. But anyway. "I mean, she keeps passing up what would undoubtedly be a very, very wonderful opportunity. And she's so smart, too. Head Girl, even."  
  
I started to remark, but Ron obviously thought of something he fancied to be quite brilliant because a huge grin covered his face, and he spoke again.  
  
"Head Girl, eh? Wow, I never thought about that before, but that title certainly leaves a lot to the imagination, doesn't it?"  
  
My face burned red, and I wanted to crawl into a hole and die at his implications. "Oh, shut up," I managed.  
  
Ron obviously enjoyed seeing me blush, though, because he proceeded to ask a very suggestive question. "You don't reckon I might get a chance to see how well you perform your duties as Head Girl, do you?"  
  
Well, honestly! But still, I had a plan to carry out. And I might have been the smartest girl in the year and… Head Girl… but that didn't mean I wasn't a normal seventeen year old. I was, and I could definitely keep up this naughty little banter. Forcing myself to smirk, I said, "Only if you're really as cocky as you act." I put major emphasis on the word 'cocky,' and it obviously did its job.  
  
Ron turned bright red. But true to his 'I'm master of the universe' image, he quickly recovered. "Do you wanna find out?"  
  
Don't blush. Don't blush. Yeah right, like that one was gonna happen. I was embarrassed, but I'd always prided myself on quick comebacks. "There's probably no point. There's probably nothing to find out."  
  
Insult a man's penis and ruin his whole world, right? No such luck. Ron laughed- he actually laughed- at my comment. "You do realize, Hermione," he said once he calmed down, "that I take complete credit for that quick little wit you've seemed to developed. If you hadn't spent the last seven years with me, there's no way you could have pulled that one off."  
  
How full of himself could he possibly be? I decided to ask him. "How full of yourself are you anyway?"  
  
Ron, following the 'I can turn anything sexual' oath that seventeen year old boys all take said, "Not as full as I'd like you to be of me."  
  
Oh. My. God. "Ronald Taylor Weasley!" I said incredulously, now deeply in shock that he had said something that sexually implicated. "That is utterly disgusting!"  
  
But, of course, Ron just smirked. He must really love doing that. "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew first-hand, Sugar." Sugar? Did he really call me 'Sugar?' With a high falsetto voice, he said, "You'd be saying, 'Oh, Ron! Why have I been so dense all this time?!' That's what you'd be saying."  
  
Not letting on that just the suggestion was getting to me, I reached out to push him slightly. "That's so not true."  
  
Ron grabbed my wrist as it swung his way, and he held onto it. Little shockwaves went passing through my central nervous system as he held my wrist that way, but I forced myself to show no physical sign of the effect. "It is true," he told me adamantly. "Hermione, what would you do if I kissed you right now?"  
  
Die of happiness. "Slap you," I said quickly.  
  
"Would you really do that to me?" Ron asked, feigning hurt. "I'm your best friend."  
  
Realizing that I could use all of this to my advantage, I simply shrugged and said, "Why don't you try it and find out?"  
  
Ron's face turned only slightly darker; he had long ago left the blushing phase. But he didn't back down from my challenge. He, of course, found a way to make him sound perfectly suave. "I'm glad you've finally seen the light, Hermione."  
  
"What light?" I asked, trying very hard to sound annoyed. Of course, as I've said before, I am definitely not stupid, and I knew exactly what light he was talking about. I just wanted to see if he had the guts to say it out loud, but, of course, I knew he did. He was Ron Weasley, after all, and he would say absolutely anything.  
  
"The light of the fact that you and I are destined for each other. I knew it was only a matter of time before you'd be begging me to kiss you." He said all of this quite nonchalantly as though he'd just informed me that we were having smoked sausage for breakfast.  
  
I laughed out loud at his claim. "You call that me begging you to kiss me?! Are you mad?!"  
  
"Only mad about you," he said over-dramatically with a smirk.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "If I was begging you to kiss me, I would certainly do it in a more creative manner than that! Please, Ron," I said, shaking my head, "give me some credit, would you?"  
  
I realized I was talking too much; I really did. But I couldn't help it. Why had I put "Operation Make Ron Beg" into working order in the first place?  
  
"Oh, I forgot," Ron said knowingly. "I'm not just talking about any old girl here. I'm talking about Hermione Granger… Of course, you'd do something much more innovative."  
  
"Exactly," I said with a quick nod of the head.  
  
"Show me."  
  
I looked up with arched eyebrows at the redhead in front of me. "Excuse me?"  
  
Ron raised his own eyebrows. "I want you to show me exactly what incredibly original and unique trick you would use to beg me into kissing your beautiful lips. Not that you'd really need to beg, of course; you know all you have to do is ask."  
  
Why the hell did I have to want him so damn much?  
  
It looked like "Operation Make Ron Beg" might just turn into "Operation Make Hermione Beg."  
  
But maybe that wasn't a bad thing…  
  
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So? Do you want more? Review please!!!!!! 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I am SO sorry for the delay, but I had to go on a family trip last week. THANKS to everyone who left feedback for the last chapter! You guys rock!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them and most likely never will.  
  
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Oh, please. Did he really expect me to just throw myself at him like all the other girls? Any other girl in the whole school would have jumped at the promise that all she had to do was ask for a kiss and she would receive. But not me. I never was one to follow the crowd, and I knew I'd have to be damned before I would beg him to kiss me.  
  
After all, this was "Operation Make Ron Beg." It was certainly not going to be "Operation Make Hermione Beg." No, Ron was supposed to be eating out of my hands and not the other way around. He was supposed to be begging me to kiss him- not vice versa.  
  
"Ron, you should know by now that I am definitely not going to beg you to do anything. You should know me better than that."  
  
"Oh, I do," he said slyly. "I know you much better than you think I do. In fact, I know all of your hidden fantasies." He was trying to be suave, and I found it quite entertaining. Not to mention just a little sexy.  
  
"Oh, really?" I raised a single eyebrow at him. "Well, feel free to enlighten me."  
  
Ron smirked. "Well, I'm quite positive that you've spent many nights dreaming about, well, me."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "You are so damn full of yourself."  
  
"Yes, I know, but you love it," Ron said seriously. "You find it absolutely endearing, though you would never, ever admit to that verbally."  
  
I was shocked. Truth be told, I did find it just a little endearing. His cockiness was cute if viewed in the right light. But he was also right when he said that I would never, ever admit to it verbally. "You are so wrong," I said simply. "I find it rather annoying actually."  
  
Ron just smirked. "Sure, 'Mione," he said sarcastically. "Keep telling yourself that."  
  
He really did know how to push my buttons. "If anyone has spent many nights dreaming about someone, it's you, dearest Ron." I looked at him with a feeling of triumph.  
  
But Ron was just the type to admit to something I wanted him to deny. "Oh, you have no idea just how many nights," he said with a dangerous twinkle lighting his blue eyes. "And you'd probably die of embarrassment if you knew what went on in those dreams," he added slyly.  
  
Of course, I couldn't help the hot blush that crept into my cheeks. Did he have any idea how much I longed for the days when he was the blusher and I was the calm, cool, and collected one? "I probably don't even want to know what goes on in your insane little mind at night," I said smoothly, willing myself not to blush anymore than I already had.  
  
And, of course, Ron just smirked. I really would have loved to smack that look off his face. "Yeah, you probably don't," he said. "You do some pretty questionable things in them."  
  
Holy Jesus Christ. I wished more than anything that he would just shut up and stop making me blush. Still, though, he was supposed to be playing right into my hand, so I used the tactic of surprise. "Well, why don't you tell me some of these questionable things, and I'll decide for myself just how unlikely they really are."  
  
It was clear that Ron hadn't been expecting this, but he didn't let on. "I'd rather show you."  
  
Well, honestly, I would much rather the same thing. However, the point of this little exercise was not to humiliate myself. "I'm sure you would," I said with a simple roll of the eyes.  
  
"Oh, I would," he said, nodding his head and his own eyes wide. "But then you might like it too much and pester me nonstop to keep demonstrating." He said this with the cockiest air he could possibly have managed.  
  
"Ron, you are really something else," I said, sighing. "I swear, if there was another person on this earth that was that damn full of themselves, I would kill over from shock."  
  
A snorted laugh was my answer. "Nah, there's no chance of that happening. Even if someone was as cocky as me, they wouldn't look as good. I wouldn't need to worry about competition."  
  
I couldn't help it. I had to laugh. Damn him, damn him. "I wish someone would knock you off your high-horse."  
  
"Someone already has," he said, playing dejected. "You manage to do it at least five times a day."  
  
"Funny how it never lasts," I countered sarcastically.  
  
Ron sighed loudly and turned his body to face the same direction mine was. He scooted as close as humanly possible without actually being on my lap and draped an arm around my shoulder. "Mione, 'Mione, 'Mione," he said shaking his head, obviously exasperated.  
  
"Ron, Ron, Ron," I said in the same tone, doing my very best to ignore the exact placement of the hand on the arm he had draped around my shoulder.  
  
"Why do you keep denying the inevitable?"  
  
"The inevitable what?" I asked, already knowing exactly what was so inevitable.  
  
"I've told you a million times that we're meant for each other. I know it, you know it, the whole school knows it…"  
  
"While you may speak for yourself," I said, turning my head to look at him, "I don't think you know what I know or what anyone else, much less the whole school, knows."  
  
He grinned. "But I do know that you know that I know what you know and what the whole school knows. You're just too stubborn to admit it."  
  
I let out a laugh of sarcastic surprise. "I'm the stubborn one? Oh, yes, Ron, that is so true."  
  
Still grinning his stupid little smirk, Ron took the hand that was not so close to my chest and used it to cup my chin. "You're very cute when you're sarcastic."  
  
"I thought I was always cute."  
  
"Oh, you are," he said with a nod. "But you're extra cute when you're all pissy."  
  
How he ever got to be King of the Hogwarts Romance Scene, I would never know. His pick-up lines really sucked. "Didn't you used to hate me?" I asked with narrowed eyes.  
  
He smirked. "Nah, not really. I disliked you greatly at some points, but I don't think I ever hated you. Even when you were an annoying eleven year old quoting a damn textbook, you were always pretty cute."  
  
"Yeah, right," I said, rolling my eyes for what had to be the thousandth time that afternoon.  
  
"Oh, come on, 'Mione," he said, still holding my chin. "You know you're the only girl in this school that I've ever cared about. Well, except for Ginny," he added, seemingly as an after-thought. "But I don't 'care' for her in the same way I do for you. And that's a good thing because that would be illegal."  
  
I laughed in spite of myself. "Well, thanks, Ron. That really warms my heart," I said teasingly.  
  
Ron shrugged, "No problem. But just so you know, I can warm a lot more than your heart…"  
  
I groaned at his response. Before I could answer, though, he started speaking again.  
  
"And just so you know," he stopped smirking, "I still really want to kiss you."  
  
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So? I'm not sure if the next chapter is going to be the end or not. Leave feedback and let me know what you think, please! ( 


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